Battery Acid
by TheJettSet1654
Summary: Bloody Mary encounters an old enemy one day while walking home, and he almost wins. This is a quick fanfiction featuring Mary and one of my OC's, Jack (not Beanstalk Jack). Rated M for slight violence, coarse language, and sorta-explicit sexual themes (Trigger warning: r**e. This word is NOT censored in the actual fiction, just so you know!).


**I've decided to take a quick break from "Welcome Home" and direct my creative energy into a different story. Still TWAU because I don't feel like writing about anything else. **

**This is just a quick fic of Bloody Mary (**who will be a little OOC for the sake of this fiction, please don't hate me!)** and one of the OC's from "Welcome Home," Jack (whose last name is going to be mentioned in here quicker than the other Fanfiction, haha!). Jack is, to put it simply, one twisted motherfucker, and not even Mary can get down with that. It's not shipping, they just fight.**

**This references the other fanfic, but not a lot – you should be fine without the other information. It says the name Lyra, which is Jack's ex-wife (but as you can tell, he has a vendetta against her!). **

**ALSO, ****_TRIGGER WARNING._**

**There's a scene in here that's kinda rapey and some rapey, horrible things are said and I just want any potential readers to know that. Let's just say that something happened to Mary a long time ago and it was *about* to happen again by the same person. **

_If you're sensitive to rape, proceed with caution._

**Anyway, enjoy! Please leave a review and let me know how it is! Thanks for reading!**

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"Well, well, well, look who it is." A deep, dark voice behind her spoke, causing a slight chill to run down her spine. She knew who it was instantly – there was only one person who sounded like that. _Fuck_.

Turning around, she greeted the figure, and without a moment's hesitation she brought out her gun and made sure it was locked and loaded. He stood there, feet slightly apart, arms by his sides. His visage bore no emotion, but she knew better; he was probably hostile. _Best not to play around with this asshole._ _People think I'm psycho, they should meet Jack._

"The fuck you want?" she growled, muscles tensed and ready to pull the trigger.

"Oh, nothing. I was just in town and figured I would visit some old friends. You weren't on the original list, but now that we're here in this alley together, why not?" A grin appeared on his face, creepy in this particular setting. Although Jack was a handsome, even sexy man – dark hair, eyes, clothing, the whole "mysterious" aura – there was always a spooky, dangerous feel to him. The living embodiment of Nick Cave's song "Red Right Hand" (which he often sang, in fact.)

"Cut the shit," Mary threatened, "before I shoot you in the face."

The smile turned into a scowl, and _the light_ appeared in his eyes. Soon after they first met, when Jack and Lyra were getting married, she had learned not to trust _the light_. It signaled upcoming madness, murder, and mayhem. He had _the light_ when he tried to kill her two days later. He always had _the light_ when he caused harm to others.

Mary knew she was in trouble. She was strong and fairly skilled, but Jack was stronger and knew how to deal with weapons. Not even her true form helped – she had tried to ambush him with copies once, but they were all slain quickly and cleanly. He had no weaknesses, no kryptonite. If she missed, or the bullets didn't stop him, Wolf would be cleaning her corpse off the dirty ground, and Jack would be gone. _Goddamn it. _

An edge came into his voice. "Well, if you're not going to be kind, I sure as hell won't be. I want information. You have ten seconds to tell me where I can find my wife, or you will die." He began to count down from ten, his voice becoming darker with each number. There was no mistaking his malevolent intent – she had ten seconds to make a move or she _would _die.

_Shoot him now._

The bullet exited her gun and entered his chest, piercing a lung. Packing it into her pocket, Mary sprung forward and tackled him to the ground. _I can take him. _Fist raised, it descended upon his face, dealing a blow that with normal humans could have broken the nose. She raised her hand again, the tattoos on her arm glowing.

Jack realized what was happening, blocked the punch, and violently threw her against the alley wall. She let out a cry and slumped to the ground. As she was standing back up, the glint of silver in his hand rang internal alarms. _He has a knife_.

He sped forward, bringing the blade down toward her neck at a seemingly impossible speed. Somehow, she parried his attack, kneed him in the stomach, and ran past him into open ground. Jack was out of breath, and that wouldn't last long. _Quick, gotta think._

Mary attempted to come up with a strategy. She could disappear, but he would find her. That was one of his powers – he could follow her through her portals, immune to her escape attempts and deception. Removing her glamour might give her an advantage, but she had no time to do so. Her gun was in her pocket, but it wasn't ready to fire. _Why did I put it away? The fuck is wrong with me?_

Already, Jack was already coming after her again; this time, he was singing, and she knew this was bad. He always sang during homicides. She recognized the song as "Battery Acid" by Queens of the Stone Age.

_"There is nothing you can say,_

_You can't wish me away,_

_Every masochist, gets a turn,_

_The sadistic twist, you'll never learn,_

_In battery acid."_

And so, they fought. She blocked and threw in jabs when she could, furiously sending her fists into vulnerable parts of his body. Jack was undeterred and time after time directed his switchblade towards her face, neck, and chest. In the middle of defending what she judged to be a punch, his foot kicked her in the stomach and sent her flying backwards, off balance. A door had been opened to him; he advanced.

Her hand was raised, trying to fend off his upcoming attack, but it was no use; his blade entered her shoulder and something dealt a blow to her solar plexus. She fell to the ground from a combination of lost balance and pain. Her mind reeled, overflowing with panic. Unable to come up with an escape, she didn't move.

Seeing his opportunity, Jack threw himself on top of her and pinned her to the ground. He straddled her, running his hands over her body, causing her to thrash and kick, all to no avail. Cackling madly, he continued singing the song as he tore open her shirt with his knife. This was all too familiar to her. _It's what happened years and years ago, something I never told Lyra until they split up, please, not again_.

She felt his hand caress her breasts through her bra, and brought both hands down on his head in an effort to get him off. _Stop. Please stop._ He responded by leaning down and kissing her with a disgusting passion that caused her to gag. Jack felt this, and was enthralled at the effect he was causing.

Her pants were soon off, and his hands were running up her legs. As he grew closer and closer to the junction between her thighs, the place she rarely let anybody touch, a deep feeling of dread set in. She did not cease fighting, but now she also cried out, trying to get the attention of somebody, anybody who could help. Nobody came.

At least, not at first.

As Jack was rubbing her through her underwear, enjoying the sensation of unwilling female, he felt a large presence tramp up behind him. He turned around to face none other than Gren, who at this point could only be called Grendel – his glamour had been shed.

"Evening, old sport, care for a taste?" he said to the goliath, sliding his fingers over Mary's angry face.

Gren responded by picking Jack up and throwing him into the nearby dumpster. While Gren did not like Mary at all, rape, to him, was quite fucked up. He had a zero tolerance policy for it. And not only was rape wicked, Lyra was a good friend of his, and Jack was a gigantic fucking asshole cunt that had caused her a great deal of trouble over the years. "Shut the fuck up." Gren called out, feeling empowered.

Mary quickly pulled up her pants, turned to her savior, and said, "Thank you. You wanna kick his ass now?" While her feelings about Gren were returned, he had thrown their differences aside and helped her. Besides, he was good to Lyra, and she couldn't overlook that.

"Yeah." he replied, surprised at her friendliness. Normal Mary would have already killed him. But there wasn't time to think about that now – Jack was returning.

"Oh, now, you shouldn't have done that," the man mused, "I didn't want to kill you, too, but oh well. I'll be at the funeral to console my lovely wife – I'm sure she's missed me over the past few decades." Jack quickly advanced, knife raised, _the light_ in his eye.

Before he could land a blow, though, Mary had pulled out her gun once more and shot him once in both legs. The predator fell down, taken aback by surprise. He hadn't expected the gun again – he had underestimated her. She needed to die right now.

"You _fucking slut whore_. Don't you realize? You're going to die tonight, whether you want to or not. Should have let me put my cock in you. I wouldn't have hurt you; in fact, you might have even enjoyed it. I'm a pretty good fuck, even Lyra admitted that. Hell, remember the _first _time? You seemed to love the feeling of my dick. But look at what you've done, stupid bitch."

Grendel stepped forward, shielding Mary from the asshole, and brought a fist down on Jack's head. Now maimed, Jack was having trouble getting off the ground. Externally, he said, "Fuck you, fucking fucker," but internally, he said _What the fuck? Why can't I get up? How have they beaten me? Nobody wins over me. They WILL pay._

"He's all yours," Gren said, and retreated to the shadows. This was Mary's fight, and although he would have loved to rip the fucker apart limb by limb, that wasn't fair to her.

Mary made quick work of the douchebag. By the end of the night he had several broken ribs, a pierced lung, two hurt legs, a broken arm, a black eye, a split lip, and an open wound on the back of his head. Somewhere in there, he had lost control of his bowels, leaving him to smell less than pleasant. She left him there in the alley, in a world of misery. As much as she would have loved to kill him, seeing him suffer was a much more pleasurable experience for her. Besides, if anybody was going to kill him, it had to be Lyra.

Smiling, she made a mental note to have Jersey give Gren a little extra something – maybe some premium whiskey, or a big stack of cash. Mary knew the man had a strong distaste for her, but he had put that aside to help her, and she was grateful. _He deserves something in return. _

And so Bloody Mary walked home, and her journey was not interrupted by any perverted dickfaces. Not that it would have been a great hindrance – she still had her trusty gun – but it made the trip much easier.

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**That's it! Hope it was good – I wrote this all in one night, and my IPod died hallway through, so…yeah. Slow going. It's not as good as I want it to be, but there weren't many details I could put in.**

**Review, please! Let me know what you think! I hope Mary wasn't too OOC – she's surprisingly difficult for me to write, considering Jack is my own character and he's all shades of fucked up. **


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